Locked Away
by CoredApple
Summary: Heracles has no idea where he is... Or how to get out. A one shot fanfiction dedicated to a friend through a trade. First fanfiction, made by an amateur writer! Reviews will be appreciated, good or bad! Thank you! :D


"_Congratulations, Heracles… You have received the honor to become my latest conquest."_

Tossing his head to stretch his sore neck, the concrete floor met his almost frozen face. Leaning up in difficulty, he couldn't quite see his surroundings… Clenching his fist, he felt small nooks and crannies in the surface beneath him, tracing around it with the back of his hand. Shallow breaths were emitted; only silence replied. No matter how much he blinked, his vision wouldn't clarify, and the darkness wouldn't pass away…

Reaching behind he felt his jacket, bunched up underneath him and another solid wall. Plump goose bumps scattered across his arms, hairs standing on end. Attempting to lift the thin jacket over his shoulder only strained his muscle, challenging him while bound. Scowling in frustration, he leaned against the wall again, slowly knocking his head against it. Where was he?

The Greek shuffled his feet and pulled his knees to his chest, gathering warmth. Something scraped and ground against the concrete beneath his feet; possibly pebbles or small pieces of something… Curling his hands around his mouth to capture his warm shudders and circle them to his nose, a loud clang echoed into the seemingly tiny room. Then followed another, and it happened once more. Heavy footsteps became louder, digging into the blind country's mind, deeper and deeper…

Light seeped through as the metal door swung open, crashing into the wall behind. Heracles tilted his head up in panic, pressing even closer against the wall, as if he could just sink through it and out to his escape.

A sudden lash at his right cheek scraped skin, burned, and bled. Hitching his breath, it had already begun to sting. He buckled his knees in anticipation, adrenaline shooting through his veins. Tense limbs and joints throbbed, before receiving a heavy weight on his kneecaps, collapsing his legs to the ground into a spread butterfly. His own gasp choked the yelp, a crushing feeling on his legs. A hard, cold leather glove seized his neck and squeezed tightly; the thick fingers surely felt his pulsation rush. Unable to breathe, scream for help, or check the face of his perpetrator, he struggled and crashed his head into the other, making his release.

While trying to regain his breath, a fierce blow to the stomach proved it worthless as he gagged and coughed violently, his thighs aching from nearly torn muscles. Two fingers enveloped in leather and dust nabbed the tongue, yanking it out of the Greek's mouth. A cold, flat stick of metal drew across the dry and now pale-pink flesh, like a slicing motion.

"Ehe, do you understand what we do to unruly people who cannot keep secrets?"

The motion was repeated.

In his same devilish voice, "_we cut off their tongues."_

Immediately the sound of his voice rang in the bound country's ears: the tone sharp as ice, exposing every setting to chilled air simply with his appearance. The happy little sing-song voice belonged to the same being whose vile hands could crush your skull within seconds. Feared by most, easily the largest one of us all… without a doubt.

"Hel--!"

His garbled cry was soon silenced as a ball filled Heracles' mouth; it tasted the same as the thick fingers that had grace his tongue, flicking the roof of his mouth, trapped. Soon it was even harder to breath than when he was strangled.

Too quickly was the shove down; his face was kneaded against the ground. With the hand that was still gloved, Ivan had a grip on Karpusi's hair that couldn't be removed voluntarily without tearing a whole patch of hair from the Greek's lush head of loose brown curls. His trousers were yanked down before he could even think to squirm away on his knees and elbows, hands bound behind his back. Tucking his head in to his chest, he couldn't even see his own belt and embarrassingly pink kitten panties, being carelessly tossed aside.

Poking his ear felt like the sharp corner to a sheet of metal, elevated just barely half a centimeter above the ground. He squirmed away just enough, in fear that if he jerked back another cut would tally onto the three he had already received.

"!"

Drastically shoved inside of Heracles was another man, so fast and rough his eyes watered and he inhaled the leather glove. A sickening emotion welled up in the pit of his stomach; pain seared his bottom as a thick, hardened cock was sucked in and out of his anus. The furious fucking barely did any damage to the country who slept around the most; although he was usually on top, the Turk never played fairly. Parallel to the wall they were, Heracles' head drooped, hair swinging. Muffled whimpers were spat into the glove, beads of saline decorating his eyelashes. The throbbing pain did not stop, nor was it going to stop anytime soon. In his realization of this fact, he let the torture go on without resistance. He couldn't even kick away the overpowering man, whose size blanketed over Heracles and with weight that pressed him down, adding strain to his joints.

Feeling up his thigh and ass was a tingling, lecherous bare hand, the pink palm and white fingertips calloused with years of busyness. Anything but relaxation leered among the Greek body. Tensing up created more pain to the tender Greek skin; he lurched forward with each thrust – the cheek that had bled was turning yellow, the other received scratches from the harsh surface. The forced entrance made it feel like his whole groin was swelling; about to rip and tear, maybe even pronounce permanent injuries. Obviously, no pleasure came out of this horrid act. Only pain, humiliation – without being able to see, his shoulders rolled in to as he curled his back, crying in agony, the whipped cheek facing the ceiling now beginning to scar with an angry red.

Calling the action in his mind, the gloved hand practically slapped Heracles in the jaw, tearing off the thick blindfold from his eyes. A headache crept into his sinuses, from the spontaneous flash of light. In actuality the light was fairly dim, but the eyes began to dilate fiercely.

_"There there, now it is all better, yes? Because you can see now… Hehe."_

Not even a grunt faltered his sentence, said with the same cruel smile and milky voice, with malice oozing with each word. Getting a good look, it was as he had suspected: Ivan Braginsky. Heracles was in so much pain that he became numb; he couldn't even hear Ivan, detailing the rape of his own. He wasn't even going to cum! He wasn't even aroused, turned on… It was just like a free lay for Ivan, really. That's all he was.

Digging into his left butt cheek were fingernails, in so hard that he had began to wait for the excruciating pain – not long after, the rapist's hand was smudged with chalky dirt and warm blood; just one single streaming droplet drizzled down the back of Heracles' thigh.

The load was released deep inside, after Ivan had grabbed the Greek by his shoulders and pulled him back – like a solid embrace, without emotion.

Limp and abused, left alone in the dark. He was leaking, his own blood making pink swirls into the rock's crevices with the semen. The question, "What had just happened?" couldn't answer itself, no matter what he had tried. It just happened, yet he couldn't possibly describe it. The thought of speechlessness and being taken with surprise made him cry in self-pity.

Heracles stayed still for long, even after Ivan had extracted himself and stood up, locking the door behind him once again.

Fumbling metal had creaked after a full passed hour; the Greek man had fallen asleep in the same position from when he was fucked without mercy. A black military boot gave his top shoulder a harsh kick.

"_Wakey, wakey… Rise from your nap…"_

Upon awakening under the same tree, on the same hill overlooking Athens, he immediately groaned and lifted a hand to his head, feeling as if his brain had just been scrambled and fried. He looked up to the fruit tree, wondering if an apple might have possibly pounded him during his nap…

And yet, each blink showed him nothing but a black pipe being swung in his direction.


End file.
